


The Pay Is Certain

by mrs_d



Series: SamSteve Bingo [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, BDSM, Begging, Bondage, Cock Cages, Come Eating, Dom Sam Wilson, Dom/sub, Established Relationship, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Orgasm Control, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Sub Steve Rogers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-16
Updated: 2019-12-16
Packaged: 2021-02-25 04:34:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21810163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrs_d/pseuds/mrs_d
Summary: He thought about arguing —You got me so worked up on the couch,he could say, orIt’s been a week since we played, I forgot the rules,but ultimately, he knew it wouldn’t make any difference. Not when Sam had that look in his eye. Steve had ruined their night, and now he had to take his punishment.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Sam Wilson
Series: SamSteve Bingo [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1571554
Comments: 7
Kudos: 82





	The Pay Is Certain

**Author's Note:**

> Huge thank you to the organizers of SamSteve Bingo!
> 
> Square filled: “You shouldn’t have come.” 
> 
> Title comes from Walt Whitman: “I think there is no unreturn’d love, the pay is certain one way or another” (Sometimes With One I Love).
> 
> ETA: Now has a [sequel](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23612506)!

The instant it happened, Steve knew he was in trouble.

The worst part was, it wasn’t even satisfying. Sam had stopped stroking him, so there was no race to the finish line, no triumphant culmination. His cock just pulsed twice, and suddenly his come was dribbling into the V of Sam’s open jeans. It was a physiological reaction that Steve couldn’t stop — like an underwhelming, soggy sneeze.

Then Sam sighed, and Steve realized that his weak orgasm in fact wasn’t the worst part. It wasn’t even close.

“What was that, Steve?” Sam asked, his voice level but with an edge of sternness that made Steve’s stomach flip over.

“I— it—” Steve stammered. “I’m sorry.”

“For?” Sam pressed.

Steve’s cheeks were burning. Sam was going to make him say it. God, the _shame,_ and what it was doing to him. He could feel the arousal starting again already, though his dick was as flaccid as a dead fish.

“I came,” he said, though obviously Sam already knew that.

“Uh huh.” Sam hadn’t moved; Steve was still hanging on to his hips, but Sam wasn’t touching him at all anymore. “Did I give you permission to come?”

Steve shook his head mutely. Sam knew that already, too.

“That’s what I thought,” Sam said. He pulled away, and Steve regretted his mistake even more. They’d barely gotten started, Sam didn’t even have his shirt off.

“You know what happens now,” Sam added, when Steve didn’t move away from the wall.

He thought about arguing — _You got me so worked up on the couch,_ he could say, or _It’s been a week since we played, I forgot the rules,_ but ultimately, he knew it wouldn’t make any difference. Not when Sam had that look in his eye. Steve had ruined their night, and now he had to take his punishment.

He pushed himself off the wall and went to the dresser. In the top drawer, tucked behind their balled-up socks, was a velvet bag, crisp and new. It jingled gently when Steve picked it up and carried it across their bedroom.

Sam took it when Steve offered, and sat down at the edge of the bed. “Hands behind your back,” he instructed him, setting the bag aside. “Spread your legs a bit.”

Steve promptly obeyed, and Sam pulled his pants down the rest of the way. Sam lifted one foot, and then the other, and rolled his socks and underwear off, too. The shirt came next. Steve shivered with the chill and thrill of being abruptly naked in front of him.

Sam tossed his clothes at the hamper, then picked up the bag again and opened it. The device inside was shiny, glinting in Sam’s hands. Steve swallowed hard, watching the deft fingers that had been touching him so perfectly only a few minutes ago twist apart the padlock and detach the rings.

He knew it was coming, but still, he couldn’t bite back a gasp when Sam took hold of his balls. In the split second between the warm touch of Sam’s fingers and the cold steel of the ring, Steve felt a flame of hope flare up, only to be doused immediately. Working quickly and dispassionately, Sam guided Steve’s testicles through the ring one at a time while Steve tried not to squirm. The cage — a series of metal loops that looked a little like a wilted slinky — came next. Its curve forced Steve’s cock down, emasculating and unrelenting.

Sam glanced up, obviously checking in before he locked everything down. Steve nodded. “It’s good,” he assured him before Sam could ask.

“Not too good, I hope,” Sam said wryly. “This is a punishment, it’s not supposed to be good.”

“I know,” Steve replied quickly. “It’s not good.”

But he was lying; of course it would be good, he loved it when Sam made him suffer.

Sam’s lips quirked up; they understood each other perfectly. “And why not?”

Sam was making him say it — again. “Because I wasn’t good,” Steve mumbled, red-faced and ashamed.

“No, you weren’t,” Sam agreed, no joke in his tone now. He lined up the pins and secured the cage. “You couldn’t control yourself, so I have to do it for you.”

The snick of the lock sliding home made it all too real. Steve’s mouth went dry. “I know,” he managed.

“Good,” said Sam. He leaned back and held out the key. “Do me a favor, baby, and put that in the silverware drawer.”

From his tone, he could have been asking Steve to turn on the TV. Steve took the key unthinkingly, but then he hesitated, looking down.

“If you use it, I’ll lock you up for a week,” Sam added, his voice dropping ominously.

Steve suppressed a groan and turned away. The cage clinked with his movement, but he hardly noticed the sound. The sensation of the metal weighing him down as he tried to walk calmly and normally through their little house had consumed all of his focus. It was like his cock had been replaced by a swirling vortex, pulling every one of his thoughts in its direction.

The cage was new. They’d bought it a couple of months ago, and Steve had only worn it twice so far — once to make sure the measurements were right, and once for a long, slow tease that had ended with some of the best sex of his life. He’d imagined wearing it more — he’d even agreed that it would be used for punishment — but he hadn’t thought that it would happen so soon. In fact, he’d kind of been hoping that Sam would ask him to wear it in public. Under his clothes, it would be a secret they shared, and a reminder of who Steve belonged to.

But instead, this happened. Steve tried to console himself, thinking about last time’s spectacular conclusion, but the thought of sex was almost too much to bear. He quickly tossed the key into the drawer beside the spoons and headed back to the bedroom.

When he returned, he saw that Sam had turned off the overhead light, leaving only the bedside lamp on, lit at its lowest setting. He was still seated at the end of the bed, but he was looking at his phone now. His jeans were still open, and Steve could see that Sam hadn’t cleaned himself up at all. His dick had softened to just a lump under his cotton underwear, barely more pronounced than usual.

Steve stood in the doorway somewhat awkwardly, waiting to be acknowledged. Sam didn’t show any sign of realizing he was there, but after a moment, he shifted slightly, letting his legs fall open. Then he rocked his hips, just enough to make the mattress creak. His hand slid along his thigh, past his crotch and up to his nipples, now hardening under his thin t-shirt. His eyes still on his phone, Sam caressed one pec and then the other, before drifting back down.

Steve couldn’t look away. Sam’s cock was slowly filling again, but Sam didn’t touch it, not even once — proving that he was much better at self-control than Steve ever would be.

After several long minutes, Steve began to wonder what Sam was looking at. He’d taken some good pics the last time he’d marked Steve with the flogger, maybe that was it? Or porn; everybody liked porn. Steve was desperately curious. He shuffled his feet, antsy to move.

Sam looked up at the sound of the padlock rattling. He smiled — more at Steve’s dick than at him — and reached over to set his phone on the dresser. He spread his legs wider, and lowered his pants about halfway down his thighs. Just enough to free his cock, which was half-hard by now. With his eyes on Steve again, he gave himself a loose, one-handed stroke and sighed pleasurably.

Steve’s dick twitched, collided with the walls of its cage, and retreated. Steve bit back a whimper.

Sam’s smile widened, and Steve realized that Sam had been stalling. He’d waited long enough that Steve felt like he could get hard again, were it not for the cage— and that was exactly Sam’s point.

“Come here,” Sam said, quietly but imperiously. “Let me kiss you.”

Steve moved — it was more like being pulled into Sam’s orbit than stepping forward. Sam’s lips, when they found his, were wet and strong and impossible to deny. Sam kissed him fully, slowly, like he had all the time in the world to savor it. Steve moaned into his mouth, feeling like he was melting inside. Nobody could kiss like his husband.

Then Sam threaded his fingers into Steve’s hair and pulled, reminding him that Sam wasn’t just his husband. He was his Dom, and he was still very disappointed in him right now.

“On your knees,” Sam murmured against his lips. “Clean up your mess.”

Steve sank down at once, discovering a plush folded towel waiting for him. Sam must have put it there while Steve was in the kitchen. A thrill rippled through him — first, at the knowledge that Sam was taking care of him, watching out for his bad knees on the hardwood floor, and second, at the implication that he was going to be here a while.

Kneeling, the cock cage was even more uncomfortable. It felt like his balls were being squeezed through a garden hose. But he did it anyway, settling between Sam’s generous, gorgeous thighs.

In the dim light, it was a challenge to find the spot where he’d come. Sam’s skin was mostly dry, but after a second’s probing, he discovered a flaky spot on Sam’s lower abdomen that tasted bitter-bright and salty. He recoiled unintentionally and shuddered.

“You know I hate repeating myself,” Sam warned him.

Steve swallowed down the sour taste and forced himself to continue. His face was hot with humiliation, and he cursed his dick. His dick, stuck in its rattling cage, cursed back.

Sam hummed, sounding completely relaxed while Steve worked, but his hand had enough force to keep Steve in place. Meanwhile, his erection bobbed just inches away, taunting Steve with its dense, musky scent — so much more appealing than what he was currently licking.

Frustrated, Steve nudged it with his chin a few times, and Sam’s grip tightened. “I’ll tell you when it’s time to touch my dick, Steve,” he growled.

Steve shivered with want, even as the cage reminded him of its futility.

After several long minutes, Sam pulled Steve back and ran a hand along the area he’d been bathing with his tongue. He made a satisfied noise and let his fingers slide further until he was gripping the base of his cock.

Without meaning to, Steve licked his lips and squirmed. His padlock jingled again between his legs.

“Oh, you want that, do you?” Sam asked. He stroked a little harder with his left hand. “You want to suck me off?”

Steve nodded. The sooner he could get Sam off, the sooner he could be free. He tried to lean in again, but Sam didn’t let him move.

“I don’t think so,” he said, and he shifted. Steve felt the towel moving under his knees, and then—

Steve gasped. Sam’s bare foot was suddenly on his thigh. Steve hadn’t noticed that Sam had taken his socks off, but he clearly had, because his foot was ice cold. Steve stayed perfectly still while it inched inward, little by little, until it was it was resting fully on top of his bound cock. He could almost feel the rough edge of Sam’s callouses through the tiny gaps between the bars.

Sam pressed down harder. Steve flinched. The discomfort, the shame, and the little bit of pain was turning him on like crazy, the arousal building everywhere except his cock. And when Sam wiggled his frozen toes in Steve’s pubic hair, Steve jerked forward, so startled at feeling _something_ that for one wild second he’d thought he’d come again.

Sam watched him, smiling that wicked smile, and kept doing it. Steve squirmed once more.

“That’s not gonna do you any good,” Sam chuckled, “but keep it up. It’s fun to watch.”

Sam did seem to be having fun: his erection was straining upwards. Sweat was glinting against his forehead and on the maddeningly small part of his chest that his V-neck t-shirt revealed. Even his grip on Steve’s hair had loosened.

Steve decided to take advantage of this, and did something very reckless. He leaned in, too fast for Sam to stop him, and licked the tip of Sam’s cock.

Sam yanked him back hard — hard enough to hurt — barely a second after he made contact. “What did I just say, Steve?”

Steve sucked Sam’s taste off his tongue and swallowed. “I don’t know,” he said, eyes locked on Sam’s face. “I wasn’t listening.”

Sam shoved Steve away and stood up, leaving Steve on his knees. Steve looked up — Sam was almost a foot taller than him already; from down here, he looked like a giant. Or, given the faint halo of light behind him, like one of those terrifying angels from the Bible.

Steve’s heart was racing, his adrenaline up. He held his breath while he waited for what Sam would do to him next.

“Fine,” Sam said, and his voice was gratifyingly husky. He pulled his pants down further, moving awkwardly with one hand still in Steve’s hair. Steve inhaled deeply and closed his eyes for a brief moment — just breathing in Sam’s familiar smell was enough to make him drool.

“Fine,” said Sam again. “You want it, you got it. But you’re not gonna enjoy it.”

It was another lie they’d both agreed to; Sam knew as well as Steve did how much he loved sucking cock.

“We’ll see,” Steve started to say, but before he could get half a word out, his lips were splitting with the rough, unlubricated slide of Sam’s dick into his mouth.

“There,” Sam said, halfway in already. “Happy now?”

Steve gagged, but he didn’t back down. He held Sam’s gaze and tried to speak with his eyes.

 _Come on,_ he said. _Let me have it._

Sam must have gotten the message clear enough, because he kept pushing — he was a big guy, but Steve prided himself on taking it all, and he’d never been known to take things slow. Still, Sam let him have a quiet, blissful moment once his nose was buried in the thick curls that Sam kept trimmed so neatly just for this reason. He breathed in, eyes closed, and Sam breathed with him.

And then he started to move.

He pulled out and thrust in again, so slowly that it was almost worse than if he’d just gone for it. It felt like eons before Sam shoved in a little harder, a little faster. His grip on Steve’s hair was implacable, so Steve couldn’t change the pace, couldn’t move at all, couldn’t do anything except kneel there and take it, letting Sam use him.

Steve loved it, he loved Sam, he loved making Sam happy— but the longer it went on, the more he found that Sam was right: he wasn’t enjoying it. Normally, Sam’s cock down his throat would be enough to get him hard, and fast. But every time his body so much as thought about getting aroused, the cage would remind him that he couldn’t, that he wasn’t in control, that he hadn’t earned that yet.

Only Sam could get him out of this, he thought, while Sam fucked his face. If he could make Sam come, Sam would let him out, and then he’d have the best goddamned orgasm on the planet. Sam would be sweet to him, tell him he was good, and put the cage away.

Steve decided to be reckless again, to try to make that happen sooner rather than later. So the next time Sam thrust in, Steve wiggled his tongue for the few seconds it took for his mouth to fill.

Sam gasped — one tiny sign that he was losing control — then he pulled out completely. The way he was clutching the base of his cock sent a frisson of desire through Steve; he ached to give Sam the little bit of sweetness — a gentle suck, a lick in just the right place — that he needed to push him over the edge.

But Sam, of course, would have none of that. Breathing hard, he held Steve firmly and looked down with eyes that flashed dangerously.

“You just don’t learn, do you?” he said.

Steve licked his lips, which were raw but saturated with Sam’s taste. “Nope.”

Sam stared at him another second, then turned away and pulled off his shirt. His jeans followed. The black hole that used to be Steve’s dick throbbed as he watched Sam undress. Steve had seen it a hundred times, but his breath still caught in his throat; Sam was just so beautiful. His warm brown skin seemed to glow in the yellowy light of their bedroom, the hard lines of his body thrown into sharp relief. And when he bent over? God.

Steve only realized Sam was saying something when he sighed and straightened up. “You stopped listening again, Steve,” he said.

Steve stared at Sam’s still-shiny, still-mostly-hard cock and didn’t deny it.

“Clearly, you’re distracted,” Sam concluded. “I can fix that.”

It caused Steve near-physical pain to watch his husband put pants on. Sam’s dick tented the loose plaid fabric of his pyjama bottoms, but it worked; Steve raised his eyes to find an amused but skeptical expression on Sam’s face.

“Up,” he instructed. “On the bed, on your side, facing away from me.”

Steve obeyed without question, feeling a little like he was in a dream. Even the uncomfortable squeeze of his cock between his thighs seemed distant as he lay down with his back to Sam.

He heard Sam moving behind him, the bottom dresser drawer closing. Then there was a dip in the mattress. Steve half-turned, like he’d just woken up and he wanted a kiss, but Sam denied him, lifting Steve’s right arm instead.

“What—?” Steve said, as the rope closed around his wrist.

“If you’d been listening, you would know what was happening,” Sam said, attaching the rope to the steel loop in their headboard. “You want me to go over it again?”

Steve watched him secure the rope. “No,” he decided after a moment. “I trust you.”

Sam hummed, pleased, and kept working. When both hands were tied over Steve’s head, he asked, “Good?”

Steve nodded, so Sam ducked down and kissed him. It was sweet at first, and shallow, but that only lasted a moment; even Sam had his limits. Soon his tongue had worked its way inside, hot and demanding, possessive. Steve tried to give back as good as he got, and when he felt the press of Sam’s erection against his thigh, he arched up to give Sam some friction.

Sam grunted and pulled away, bracing himself above Steve with one arm. His mouth travelled down to Steve’s earlobe and neck, while his free hand roved over Steve’s naked body.

Sam hadn’t touched him — really touched him — since Steve came, but he touched him now. His fingers seemed to want to go everywhere, from his cheek to his nipples, his hips to his ass. Every inch of Steve’s skin seemed to come alive — the hair on his arms and neck stood up, his nipples grew hard as diamonds. It was like his body was compensating for his cock being out of commission, and it was starting to hurt.

He arched his back again and yanked at the ropes, wanting more. Sam huffed out a laugh and pushed himself up. “I love you like this,” he said. “So desperate for it, huh, baby?”

Steve nodded. Sam sat back on his knees. If Steve looked for it — and Steve was definitely looking — he could see the edge of his cock through the open fly of his sleep pants.

Sam noticed and ran a hand idly over his crotch. “You still think this is about making me come,” he said.

“Well, yeah, what else—?” Steve started to ask, but his question ended with a gasp when Sam bent over and pulled his cock, cage and all, into his mouth.

The sensation was strange — wet and hot and arousing, but maddening at the same time. He knew that he would love it if he were hard, he knew that he wanted to get hard, and he knew that he never would, not so long as the lock stayed on. He thrust up fruitlessly, only for Sam to grasp his hips.

“Hold still,” he said firmly. He stayed close enough that Steve could feel the air leaving his mouth when he added, “Be good.”

Steve nodded blindly and licked the sweat off his lips. But he’d barely had time to breathe before Sam caught him off-guard again.

He cried out — he couldn’t help it — when Sam’s tongue wedged itself between the bars of the cage. He swore he could feel each taste bud, every bump and groove. His cock kept trying to harden, and if he thought he’d been uncomfortable before, he’d been extraordinarily naïve. This was agony, and when Sam’s tongue explored the gaps at the end of the cage, stroking the soft tip again and again, Steve squeezed the ropes so hard his hands hurt.

“Fuck,” he said to the ceiling. “Fuck, Sam— _please.”_

Sam pulled off his cock and rubbed a soothing hand low on Steve’s belly. “Finally,” he said. “Took you long enough.”

“What? I don’t—” Steve gasped, bewildered. “Sam?”

Sam was moving again and didn’t answer. With a nudge, he rolled Steve onto his side and slotted in behind him. His cock was fire-hot against Steve’s ass, the fabric between them moist and clinging.

“Come on, baby,” Sam said. “Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m after.”

Sam’s words were slurred into the back of Steve’s neck, sending wave after wave of chills down his spine. Sam’s hand slid from Steve’s stomach to the lock on his cage — his fingers lifted it, then let it fall, then lifted it, and let it fall, until Steve could feel the clink of its metal resonating throughout his entire body.

“You want out?” Sam asked him, his teeth at Steve’s earlobe. “You gotta beg me for it.”

Steve groaned, but it quickly turned into a whine when Sam’s hand travelled up and tweaked his nipple, just hard enough to hurt.

“Oh, you son of a bitch,” Steve sighed.

He really should have seen this coming. Begging was anathema to Steve — his pride rejected it outright. This was his real punishment; there was no more effective way to remind him of who was really in charge around here. The cage was just incidental.

Sam chuckled into his shoulder. “I know,” he purred sympathetically. “I’m a bastard, huh?”

He wriggled behind Steve, rustled against the bed, and then there was no longer any barrier between them. The bare, dripping head of Sam’s cock was just inches away from Steve’s ass, and he was rocking his hips like he was going to slide right in.

“I told you this wasn’t about making me come,” he said. “That’s just a bonus. Now come on, let me hear you.”

His hand was back on Steve’s cock, the very tips of his fingers grazing the crown through the bars. It felt so good, that tiny bit of friction, that Steve honestly wondered if he could come soft. And then he started thinking about what Sam would do to him if he came without permission again.

His dick made its most valiant effort yet to throw off the cage, and the pain caused something deep within Steve to start to fray.

 _Please,_ he thought, but his throat made no sound.

“God, you’re so beautiful,” Sam murmured. He was kissing Steve’s skin again. “I could keep you tied up like this all day, I’d never get tired of looking at you.”

“Yes, you would,” Steve replied, mostly joking, but also not. He knew that if he argued, Sam would correct him, and, sue him, he was a glutton for punishment.

Not disappointing him, Sam’s teeth grazed the top of his shoulder. “Don’t tell me what I would and wouldn’t do, Steve,” he said. “That’s not your job, is it?”

Steve shook his head. Sam bit down a little harder.

“Say it,” he insisted. “Say that that isn’t your job.”

“That’s not my job,” Steve repeated breathlessly.

“Your job is to do what I tell you, when I tell you,” Sam reminded him. “And not—” he grabbed Steve’s dick suddenly— “a minute before I say so. Right?”

Steve nodded. Sam bit down once more, unrelenting. _Please,_ Steve thought again, and this time his mouth half-formed the word.

“Say it back to me,” Sam ordered him. “Tell me.”

Steve did, repeating Sam’s admonishment almost word-for-word. While he talked, Sam shuffled around behind him, and by the time he was done speaking, a small amount of slick had made its way between Steve’s thighs.

“Are you gonna fuck me?” Steve added before he could stop himself.

“Do you want me to?” was the reply, followed by Sam’s tongue to the back of his ear.

Steve writhed against him, the lock rattling again. “Always kinda,” he huffed.

“Then you know what to do,” Sam reminded him. He rutted against Steve’s back, the tip of his cock slipping in and out of the back of Steve’s thighs. Steve wanted him so badly, and if he was going to get him, he had to submit, and _now._

“Oh, fuck it,” he said at last. “You win. Christ, Sam.”

“Not good enough,” Sam ground out, but his cock slid fully between Steve’s legs, colliding with his constricted balls and drawing another cry from Steve’s throat.

“Please,” Steve said, through gritted teeth. “Sam, please.”

Sam’s breathing was ragged, like he was right on the edge, but he still managed to say, “Please what?”

“Please let me out,” Steve begged. His voice broke, but it didn’t matter. “Please, Sam, I want to touch you. I want to come, please, _please_ let me. Please?”

Sam shuddered, his breath hot like summer wind on the back of Steve’s neck, and he fucked Steve’s thighs harder, faster. A moment later, he came— the hand that was grasping Steve’s hip tightening to the point of pain. Steve bore it helplessly, unable to move while Sam’s cock spurted between his legs, as he panted and moaned and shook behind him.

Sam’s hips rocked a moment longer, nudging Steve’s sensitive balls, while his mouth caressed the nape of Steve’s neck, and then he sagged down, completely spent. The air in their bedroom was thick, the scent so sickly-sweet Steve could taste it. He licked his lips, desperate for even a small part of Sam’s pleasure.

They stayed like this for some time — Steve wasn’t sure how long — until Sam breathed in and rubbed his side.

“Oh, baby, you’re so good to me,” he sighed. Steve smiled, but he squirmed, too, and Sam noticed. “Okay, one sec.”

His hand slid up to the ropes on Steve’s right wrist and undid them easily. Then he kissed Steve’s cheek and knelt up to get the other side. He gently pulled Steve’s hands down and squeezed them with his own.

“Cold?” he asked.

Steve shook his head. “Not too bad.”

“Good.” Sam got out of bed, taking his pyjama pants with him. “I’ll be right back.”

 _To let you out,_ Steve heard, even though Sam didn’t say that.

He smiled and nodded. The good part was coming; the relief from finally getting the cage off was all he could think about. He remembered last time, how quickly he got hard, how fast the orgasm took him, and how well he slept in Sam’s arms afterwards.

Steve listened to Sam walk away, his bare feet quiet on the hardwood floors. He heard the distinctive creak of the bathroom door, followed by the rush of running water. He waited, shifting against the mattress, grimacing at the sticky pull between his legs, while Sam rummaged in the bathroom and kitchen, presumably getting himself tidied up, and fishing the key out of the silverware drawer.

When Sam returned a few minutes later, he was wearing his pyjama pants and carrying a washcloth. It was lukewarm against Steve’s skin when he wiped him down, but Steve hissed nonetheless; he was so keyed up that even the lightest touch felt like fire.

Sam looked up. They shared a smile, and Sam dropped a light kiss on his lips that left Steve wanting.

“So good to me,” Sam said again, getting off the bed and going to the hamper to deposit the cloth. Then he opened the dresser and pulled out a t-shirt and a pair of Steve’s sweat pants.

“For when you need them,” he explained, setting them on the chair in the corner of their room.

“Okay,” Steve said, confused but agreeable.

Sam climbed into bed, tugging Steve into his arms immediately. Sam pulled the blankets up to cover them both, and Steve tried to relax with his head on Sam’s chest. But the cock cage was like a rock jammed between them. He wriggled this way and that, but he just couldn’t get comfortable.

Finally, he pulled away. He hesitated, waiting for what was supposed to happen next, but Sam was just watching him with heavily-lidded eyes, silent and smiling slightly.

Why wasn’t Sam letting him out? Did he want Steve to beg some more?

Feeling mildly annoyed, Steve exhaled through his nose and rolled over. At once, Sam spooned up behind him, almost exactly how they were when he came, except that Steve’s hands were free now. He rubbed and kissed Sam’s forearms, which were wrapped around his chest, and Sam hummed into his neck.

“Got you all worked up, haven’t I?” he said.

Steve shivered, and his dick twitched limply in its cage. “Yeah,” he admitted, and waited.

After a long, sleepy minute, Sam asked, “You want out?”

“Yeah,” Steve said again. “Please,” he added, just to prove he’d learned his lesson.

Sam hummed again and shifted behind him — reaching, Steve thought, for the key that he’d surely left on the nightstand, even though Steve didn’t see him bring it in.

But Sam just turned the light off, and snuggled up into Steve’s back. “Then you shouldn’t have come,” he said.

A completely different chill ran through Steve. He had a sinking feeling in his stomach, the familiar sense that he wasn’t talking to his husband anymore; he was talking to his Dom, and he wasn’t going to win this.

“But—”

“I told you, this is a punishment. It’s not supposed to be good,” Sam cut him off. His voice was blurry with fatigue, but still it brooked no argument. He kissed Steve’s neck again. “You can think about that till morning. Goodnight, baby.”

And with that, he fell asleep, leaving Steve with nothing to do but keep waiting.

**Author's Note:**

> New contact info if you want to scream at me/encourage me to write the sequel I keep thinking about:
> 
> Tumblr: [mrsd-writes](http://mrsd-writes.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Twitter: [@mrsd_writes](https://www.twitter.com/mrsd_writes)
> 
> Dreamwidth: [mrs_d](https://mrs-d.dreamwidth.org/)


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